At first the plan of the committee was not welcomed by the International Council; there was even a sus- p icion that its purpose was to start a rival organiza- t ion. But it met, a constitution was framed, and officers were elected, Mrs. Catt--the ideal choice for the place--being made president. As a climax to the organization, a great public mass-meeting had been arranged by the German suffragists, but at the special plea of the president of the International Council Miss Anthony remained away from this meeting. It was represented to her that the in- t erests of the Council might suffer if she and other of its leading speakers were also leaders in the suf- f rage movement. In the interest of harmony, there fore, she followed the wishes of the Council's presi- d ent--to my great unhappiness and to that of other suffragists.
When the meeting was opened the first words of the presiding officer were, ``Where is Susan B. An- t hony?'' and the demonstration that followed the question was the most unexpected and overwhelm- i ng incident of the gathering. The entire audience rose, men jumped on their chairs, and the cheering continued without a break for ten minutes. Every second of that time I seemed to see Miss Anthony, alone in her hotel room, longing with all her big heart to be with us, as we longed to have her. I p rayed that the loss of a tribute which would have meant so much might be made up to her, and it was.
Afterward, when we burst in upon her and told her of the great demonstration the mere mention of her name had caused, her lips quivered and her brave old eyes filled with tears. As we looked at her I t hink we all realized anew that what the world called stoicism in Susan B. Anthony throughout the years of her long struggle had been, instead, the splendid courage of an indomitable soul--while all the time the woman's heart had longed for affection and recognition. The next morning the leading Berlin newspaper, in reporting the debate and describing the spontaneous tribute to Miss Anthony, closed with these sentences: ``The Americans call her `Aunt Susan.' She is our `Aunt Susan,' too!''
Throughout the remainder of Miss Anthony's visit she was the most honored figure at the Inter- n ational Council. Every time she entered the great convention-hall the entire audience rose and re- m ained standing until she was seated; each mention of her name was punctuated by cheers; and the en- t husia** when she appeared on the platform to say a few words was beyond bounds. When the Em- p ress of Germany gave her reception to the officers of the Council, she crowned the hospitality of her people in a characteristically gracious way. As soon as Miss Anthony was presented to her the Empress invited her to be seated, and to remain seated, al- t hough every one else, including the august lady herself, was standing. A little later, seeing the in- t repid warrior of eighty-four on her feet with the other delegates, the Empress sent one of her aides across the room with this message: ``Please tell my friend Miss Anthony that I especially wish her to be seated. We must not let her grow weary.''
In her turn, Miss Anthony was fascinated by the Empress. She could not keep her eyes off that charming royal lady. Probably the thing that most impressed her was the ability of her Majesty as a linguist. Receiving women from every civilized country on the globe, the Empress seemed to address each in her own tongue-slipping from one language into the next as easily as from one topic to another.
``And here I am,'' mourned ``Aunt Susan,'' ``speak- i ng only one language, and that not very well.''
At this Berlin quinquennial, by the way, I preached the Council sermon, and the occasion gained a cer- t ain interest from the fact that I was the first or- d ained woman to preach in a church in Germany.
It then took on a tinge of humor from the additional fact that, according to the German law, as suddenly revealed to us by the police, no clergyman was per- m itted to preach unless clothed in clerical robes in the pulpit. It happened that I had not taken my clerical robes with me--I am constantly forgetting those clerical robes!--so the pastor of the church kindly offered me his robes.
Now the pastor was six feet tall and broad in pro- p ortion, and I, as I have already confessed, am very short. His robes transformed me into such an absurd caricature of a preacher that it was quite impossible for me to wear them. What, then, were we to do?
Lacking clerical robes, the police would not allow me to utter six words. It was finally decided that the clergyman should meet the letter of the law by entering the pulpit in his robes and standing by my side while I delivered my sermon. The law soberly accepted this solution of the problem, and we offered the congregation the extraordinary tableau of a pulpit combining a large and impressive pastor standing silently beside a small and inwardly con- v ulsed woman who had all she could do to deliver her sermon with the solemnity the occasion re- q uired.
At this same conference I made one of the few friendships I enjoy with a member of a European royal family, for I met the Princess Blank of Italy, who overwhelmed me with attention during my visit, and from whom I still receive charming letters. She invited me to visit her in her castle in Italy, and to accompany her to her mother's castle in Austria, and she finally insisted on knowing exactly why I p ersistently refused both invitations.
``Because, my dear Princess,'' I explained, ``I am a working-woman.''
``Nobody need KNOW that,'' murmured the Princess, calmly.
``On the contrary,'' I assured her, ``it is the first thing I should explain.''
